


Enter, One Skinny Pup

by Jibbly



Series: Red Dead Redemption ABO [1]
Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Caretaking, M/M, Pack Dynamics, Werewolves, full wolf shifting, unbetad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-02-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:47:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22589635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jibbly/pseuds/Jibbly
Summary: Dutch gives him a stern look. “Don’t make that face, boy.” Hosea dismounting, careful of what he was holding.“What the hell is that?” his nose scrunches up, baring his teeth a little, to which Dutch is not having any of it. He steps up close to Arthur, standing at his full height, not giving an inch. The hairs on the back of Arthur’s neck stand up, and it’s time’s like this that he forgets that Dutch isn’t a were.“That’s enough, you two.” Hosea says sternly, and places himself between the both of them. The distance lets Arthur breathe a little easier, but then he’s back to staring Hosea. The older man sees him and tries to give him a reassuring look. “He was going to be hanged, Arthur. We couldn’t leave him.”Looking at the pulled taunt fur over the jutting ribs, the pup was a sorry sight. Eyes not even open, but shaking, curled up as it was in the older man’s arms.
Relationships: John Marston/Arthur Morgan, not really since they just meet but still
Series: Red Dead Redemption ABO [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1625401
Kudos: 119





	Enter, One Skinny Pup

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to make a couple of werewolf oneshots  
> this is a prequel from "Comforting"  
> and starting from this point it'll go forward. 
> 
> Arthur is the only were in the camp rn, not presented yet.  
> just wanted to introduced these characters as wolves tbh

There’s a hard frown on his face when he sees the bundle wrapped up in Hosea’s arms. HE smelled it as soon as it entered onto the camp territory. He was standing by the horses for them as they dismounted and started towards the others.

Dutch gives him a stern look. “Don’t make that face, boy.” Hosea dismounting, careful of what he was holding.

“What the hell is that?” his nose scrunches up, baring his teeth a little, to which Dutch is not having any of it. He steps up close to Arthur, standing at his full height, not giving an inch. The hairs on the back of Arthur’s neck stand up, and it’s time’s like this that he forgets that Dutch isn’t a were.

“That’s enough, you two.” Hosea says sternly, and places himself between the both of them. The distance lets Arthur breathe a little easier, but then he’s back to staring Hosea. The older man sees him and tries to give him a reassuring look. “He was going to be hanged, Arthur. We couldn’t leave him.”

Looking at the pulled taunt fur over the jutting ribs, the pup was a sorry sight. Eyes not even open, but shaking, curled up as it was in the older man’s arms. 

Close to death as it is, it’s still a werewolf. Scent clear as day.

The pleading look from Hosea, makes him duck his head and move aside.

\---

Dutch tells Arthur that he doesn’t want him near it, not until he can stop growling at it.

He can’t really help it. Not with the full moon being so close and another wolf on his territory.

There aren’t that many weres around. Not anymore. The army wiped out most of them, folk believing that weres were people possessed by demons. Fear was a powerful motivator. Remaining weres sought out to hired guns, or in hiding.

In all his life, he’s met three. Not including his father. All were sadistic bastards, that didn’t make him feel sorry for putting a bullet in their heads.

Those were full grown men, though, as well as alphas.

He looks across the camp at where Mrs. Grimshaw and Hosea are trying to feed the pup. It still hasn’t opened its eyes and has only licked the spoon they keep on offering to it a handful of times. It’s been here for three days but doesn’t look like it’ll be here much longer.

Finishing up his coffee, he stands, wiping his hands on his jeans. There’s a crawling under his skin that’s driving his close to made. The full moon isn’t until tomorrow night, but as he turns into his tent, he knows that he’ll shift tonight.

He closes the flaps and starts to undress. The skies just started to turn dark, so he’ll have a full night to tire himself out. Placing his hat on the small crate by his cot, he starts to let the change take him.

He goes from two feet to four from one heartbeat to another. His thought quieter as a wolf, simpler.

Shaking himself, he ducks under the canvas and looks over towards Dutch’s tent. The dark-haired man nodding at him once he catches his eye.

Dutch isn’t an alpha. Not even a werewolf, but to Arthur he’s a good as one.

With the permission, he heads towards the tree line.

\---

It’s well into the night, when he trots his way back onto the campground.

There’s blood in his mouth as he drops the turkey, he caught on his way back next to Pearson’s workstation.

Most of the camp is asleep, lanterns off, snoring filling the air, the fire on the verge of dying out.

It’s a habit he’s picked up to walk by everyone’s tent. An instinct to make sure his pack was alright, whenever he comes back. He walks slowly and quietly, not wanting to disturb anyone.

He’s just passing Bill’s tent, when his ear twitches. Head turning towards the end of the camp, he goes forward. Softly padding along, he ends up at Hosea’s tent. The flaps aren’t closed, so he peers inside.

The man is asleep, lying on his back.

Besides his cot is a bundled mess of blankets, a soft whimpering coming from inside. Them.

He knows that he’s not supposed to go near the pup.

He can remember that, even shifted.

He’s about to back out of the tent, when a small dark head breaks through the covers.

Arthur’s ears pin back, a growl on the verge of forming in his throat, when he sees two bright eyes open. He freezes as they move throughout the tent and stop when they land on him. He stills stay, but the pup after being still for days, tries to come near him.

He snaps his jaws at it, and it starts to cry.

Hosea sits up in an instant. “Arthur? Get the hell out of here!” He pushes him out of the tent, and Arthur scurries back to his own tent. Ducking under the canvas and curling up under his cot.

\---

Morning comes, and he’s still in his shifted form.

A sense of shame had settled deep in his gut. He had gone near the pup. He wasn’t supposed to. He hadn’t listened to his pack alpha.

The hustle and bustle of the camp started, but he stayed where he was. He had settled on top of his cot, moving in the night from under it. 

“Arthur, get out here.” A deep voice grumbles somewhere near his tent, and he curls up in a ball, tail underneath him. After a few moments with no response, there’s a sigh and his flaps are being opened.

Dutch looks at him, with a frown on his face. “Get out of there and go apologize to Hosea and that pup.”

A low whine tumbles out of his mouth, but Dutch shakes his head. “I don’t want to hear it. I told you not to go near the pup and you did, the poor thing was whining all night. Now get your ass up and walk over there.”

Shuffling out of bed, he makes his way past the other, tail tucked between his legs.

Hosea is sitting on a stump, the pup in his arms, spoon at it’s mouth untouched. The blonde looks up as he gets closer, a raised eyebrow on his face as Arthur comes to sit in front of him.

If Dutch was pack alpha in his mind, then Hosea was pack omega.

He ducks his head at the other and whines, to which he hears a sigh. “It’s alright, Arthur.” Hosea reaches out and pats him on the head between his folded ears. The affectionate gesture filling his belly with warmth. After a few scratches, Hosea takes his hand back.

He looks up and freezes.

The pup’s eyes are open again, staring at him.

Hosea sees them too, and a smile breaks out on his face. Cradling the pup, a little higher, he tries to get it to look at him. “Hello there, little one.” The pup’s ears twitch but stays looking at Arthur’s wolf. IT starts to crane its head forward, it’s little nose twitching, scenting the air.

Arthur stands up in a rush. 

“Don’t move. I think… I think he wants to smell you.”

Arthur huffs, but a stern look from Hosea makes him stay where he is.

Scooting forward on the stump, he brings the pup in his arms closer to the other wolf. A low grumble comes out of his throat as the pup’s nose touches his snout, but he stays still. With the pup being as close as it is, Arthur can’t help but scent it as well.

It’s a stale smell of pup, and hunger. Not old enough to have a sub gender scent yet.

He flinches when a tiny tongue licks at his nose, startling him. Hosea chuckles at them. “I think he likes you.”

Arthur huffs, and reels back, out of range of the now alert pup. The dark bundle whining almost immediately. Hosea’s eyebrows lift. The sound hurts his ears, and he growls at it to stop, which earns him a frown. “Stop that and lay down.”

Grumbling, he does as he’s told. Lowering himself onto the ground, head between his front legs. Hosea stands up and comes over to kneel by his belly, lowering the squirming pup by his belly. Arthur startles, but Hosea ignores him. “Settle, I just want to try something.”

The pup is weak, but still manages to curl up against his thicker fur. Hosea gets another spoonful of bone broth and presents it to the pup again. After a few moments, it seems like this one will also go untouched, but the both of them are surprised when it’s lapped up.

Smiling, Hosea continues to spoon fed the pup tucked against Arthur’s side, the older wolf grumbling all the whine. Mrs. Grimshaw walks over and acclaims with joy at seeing the pup eating. “Thank god, one more day and the poor thing might have died.” She looks at him. “God Job, Mr. Morgan.” Arthur turns his head away, thoroughly annoyed. “Brat.”

After a few minutes, the pup’s belly is round and warm with food.

There’s a clink of the spoon hitting the bottom of the bowl that makes one of his ears twitch. Looking over, He sees that the pup has tucked it’s face into his fur, asleep.

“At least we know how to make him eat now.”

Arthur huffs out and settles his head between his legs.

\---

A month passes, the pup surviving.

It slowly starts to explore the camp, either Hosea or Mrs. Grimshaw with it. More often than not, it would look for him.

After the first few days, Arthur shifted back to his human form, tired of the constant babysitting, and left the camp on an extended hunting trip. It had earned him a disappointed look from Dutch, but Hosea had said that the pup was already used to eating. The camp needed meat, anyway.

He left for three days, some much needed peace and quiet out on the open land.

He came back to camp, a deer over the back of his horse along with two rabbits. Pearson thanked him, taking the dead game to start preparing.

“Arthur, come here.” He heard Dutch call him, as he finished brushing down his horse.

With a sigh, he gave the mare a pat and started towards the tent at the end of the camp. Both flaps were open, and he paused when walked in. Sitting on Dutch’s cot was a skinny kid, no older than 12. At seeing him walk in, the boy looked up and caught his eye.

“Arthur, I’d like you to meet John. “

**Author's Note:**

> just a tidlit of info that has no effect on the story, but unpresented wolves (ie pups) eyes shone silver  
> Alphas shine red  
> omegas shine blue  
> betas shine gold
> 
> twitter @jibblyuniverse4  
> Tumblr @jibblyuniverse
> 
> leave me a comment to make me :)


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